81 If we would have forced Kyle to go to a full drug treatment program, would it have changed anything?

    
   After Kyle was off heroin for about a year, he walked into our bedroom while I was folding laundry, leaned down and petted our Westie, then nonchalantly said, "I need help." The statement sounded as if he needed assistance with his homework, but I knew that's not what he meant. He placed his foot on our Victorian stuffed chair and showed me the needle holes between his big toe and the next one. I  waited for an avalanche to catch my breath, but I guess my body finally accepted that he was on his own path and there wasn't much I could do about it. I looked into those disappointed blue eyes.
   "Mom, I'm sorry. I know I can kick this."
    "I know you can too." He gave me a warm, tight hug. Was he hopeful that his strong arms around me would defuse any disappointment?  But I wasn't upset. Maybe too many things had happened these last two years, which taught me that I can't can't totally protect my children.  My son held his own keys to his future and the only thing I, as a parent, could do was be there for him for support and encourage him to heal.
   I told Alan what Kyle had said. The days of trying to hide all the chaos such as Kyle's car accidents and drinking to protect him from his dad's wrath were over.
  "Tina, I'm scared that he doesn't have the will power to fight this demon. I'm scared we're going to lose him." Alan had a catch in his voice, he was struggling not to cry. I often wondered if he cried alone in his car while driving to a job. How could he hold in so much pain? "We have to make him go to full drug rehab. He needs to be sent out of California away from his drug buddies. We have the money."
    I agreed but wondered if  Kyle would agree.  

    After Kyle had a session with his psychiatrist, I was called into his office. I have an architect husband, so I know what an organized office looks like, but even Alan had a pile of active files on his desk. Every book the ceiling to floor bookcase was lined up in perfect order, even the two pens obeyed and laid parallel, two inches from the desk pad. And one file sat on the pad, I assumed Kyle's. 
  The doctor crossed his legs. "Kyle admitted that he slipped and used again."
   I was proud of Kyle for telling his psychiatrist the truth. Last two or three years, the truth was something Kyle had learned to stretch as if making taffy. I told the psychiatrist that Alan and I want to place our son into a full care rehab facility out of state.
   "Mom, I know I can do this," he said quietly but intensely.
   The doctor glanced at Kyle and said, “He’s 21, neither you or I can force him to go if he doesn't want to.”
   Belligerently I spat out, “Well, we could kick him out on the street if he doesn’t go to a full care facility." Alan and I had already agreed that this was an option. We felt that maybe this would wake our spoiled son up and teach him to be responsible.
   But the good doctor pulled his squarish black rimmed glasses off and then shared that because Kyle was mentally ill, he calmly suggested, that we didn’t do that.
 I asked the doctor since Kyle was mentally ill if I could fill out paperwork so we could make mental health decisions. He said we could do that, but Kyle had come a long way on the new medication. He was right, the schizophrenia and bipolar symptoms were pretty much under control. His scratching, hallucinations and talking to himself about cops following him around had disappeared entirely. "You need to trust him," the good doctor had suggested.
   After Kyle's breakdown, he tried to jump into taking a full load of classes at college, but his medicine hadn't taken hold yet, so we encouraged him to take a break for a while so could give himself time to heal. The following year he was ready; we suggested that he start with one class.  This time he wasn't struggling like he had the semester before.
   He knew that he had placed stress on Alan and I’s relationship. He knew Alan, and I needed a break from it all when we decided to celebrate our 30th anniversary. We wanted to do something special, so we had planned a trip to Vancouver. I was very apprehensive about leaving him alone, and Kyle could feel it.
   “Mom, I’m going to be okay. Stop worrying.” He reminded me that since he had no keys to his car because of his last D.U.I.(we hid them), he could only get around by friends driving him and he had stopped going to parties over a year ago and after finding wet towels in my cupboard, a tip of a knife broken in my cutting board and a filled hole in the ways in the laundry room, I had had it. (Often times I didn't tell his dad.) I told Kyle if he had any more huge parties that I personally would kick him out.
   I asked one of my students that had graduated a few years earlier if he’d take Kyle to his psychiatrist and group drug counseling appointments. I was tempted to ask Travis to stay the five days at our home and pay him so Kyle would have someone around. But Alan argued that I needed to trust Kyle.  I was very apprehensive about leaving him.


   Kyle overdosed and passed away while we were in Vancouver.
   Would anything have changed if we wouldn’t have gone to Canada?   Nope. Friends came out of the woodwork after Kyle died, telling us of the plethora of times their parents or wife made them go to rehab and how they finally realized enough was enough and they kicked themselves into rehab. and became clean because they wanted to, not because someone was forcing them.
   We learned later that Kyle wasn’t going to his group drug meetings, and sometimes would slip out the backdoor when I dropped him off or after his session, he would have a drug buddy pick him up, and they would go shoot up. In plain English.....he wasn’t ready to stay clean. 

82 - Talk to your children about S-E-X before they get to 6th grade

   

        I had started 'sharing time' whenever I could fit it into my art class because I had a couple of students who were hardcore gang members at my school that year. No one was talking much. Once I had started Share Day, it opened them up, maybe too much.

       I opened my mouth to say something but immediately clamped it shut. One of my 8th graders shared proudly that he was a father already. He had talked his sixth-grade girlfriend into ditching with him. Of course, they started doing what high school students do, not what middle schoolers used to do when I was growing up. In the thick of things, Jimmy realized he didn't have a condom, so he grabbed a plastic bag in his room.

     Some of the 7th and 8th graders asked Jimmy, who was now in 9th, how he felt about being a dad. (Our school hadn't switched to a middle school yet.) He told them that he loved his son but was too young to be a father. Suddenly his macho voice disappeared, and a soft sheepish voice snuck out, "But most of all, I feel stupid because I thought a plastic sandwich bag would work as a condom. I should have had a condom on me because I knew I was gonna have, you know..." His voice trailed off.

      My students laughed, making him turn even redder. I tensed, worried that Jimmy would get pissed, but it looked like he felt comfortable with the class for the first time. I was proud of him for sharing his most embarrassing moment. I know the students listened to him more than they would have to me if I had given a lecture on being responsible when you have sex. But this talk made me aware that I needed to be a vigilant parent, talking to my kids about the responsibility of having sex and having the maturity to have it. Because I knew I couldn't shrink to travel in their pocket to ensure they behaved. Thank God I didn't have to worry about it as Kyle was 7 and Nicole was 3. But I wondered when was the appropriate time to start a conversation.

       I don't know how your parents told you about the birds and the bees, but I think my dad was worried because it was 1971, and the sexual revolution already had been in full swing since the late 1960s. My twin brother and I were in high school when our dad handed my twin a book about sex and told us to read it; if we had any questions, we could ask him. Joseph was biting back a grin, and I was holding in a giggle. I tell you, it was so hard not to burst out laughing. Since my dad hadn't signed the papers for us to watch the movie about the birds and the bees in 6th grade (my mother did), he didn't know we had already learned about all that scary but embarrassing stuff. Our brother, Alex, who was a year younger, received a more straightforward book. The three of us cracked up that our father gave us these childlike books. When he asked if we had any questions after reading them, the three of us said no and waited till he walked off to have a good laugh. HIgh school was too late then, and now junior high is too late to talk to your kids about the birds and the bees.

      I totally forgot about talking to my children in 5th or 6th grade. Still, around 8th grade, I was the one who spoke to Kyle about waiting to be sexually active until he was at least college age because he would be more mature and responsible. (8th grade is too late.) Then when we moved Kyle out of the house for a semester because he had totaled his second car and I felt he needed to continue his education at Santa Monica College, I bought him a box of condoms and told him I was not ready to be a grandmother yet. "Sex is something you do with someone you care about," I had said.  

      I still wasn't sure what to say, but he gave me this sheepish grin and said, "Thanks, mom." He probably was already active, but I was too chicken to ask.

     As for Nicole, too much chaos was happening in the house. It totally slipped my mind to talk to her, but maybe it was because she rarely went out, so I didn't worry. When Nicole was in 10th grade, at school, the nurse handed out condoms as long as parents signed an authorization paper. But instead of signing the paperwork, I told Nicole, "I hope that you will talk to me before you become sexually active, and I'll gladly take you to get birth control pills." I remember this strange smile she gave me. Now I realize how many kids will come up to their parents and say, "Hey, mom, I really like Mark, and we'd like to screw around. Can I get on some birth control pills?" I don't think I ever talked to her about the responsibility of having sex, but maybe because she always seemed more mature than I ever was at her age, I didn't feel like I had to give her a lecture.  

     Don't be naive like we were. Start talking to your kids early and continue talking to them every single school year. Roffman wrote "Talk To Me First: Everything You Need to Know to Become Your Kids' "Go-To" Person About Sex" that children who grow up in a family where sexuality is openly discussed postpone risky behaviors, which include sexual activity.

   Kids today live in an era where media exposes them to a deluge of sexual subjects. Many T.V. shows and movies exhibit sex without intimacy or do not show the critical process of deciding even to have the experience. 

      "The average age to have their first intercourse in the United States is currently 17 years old, with only 16 percent of teens having sex before they turn 15. The percentage of high schoolers who say they've had sex has been dropping for 20 years and now stands under 50 percent. The number who describe their first sexual activity as "unwanted" has dropped by a third in less than a decade and now stands at well under 10 percent. "https://rewire.news/article/2014/03/25/golden-age-teen-sexual-responsibilty/   Many had stated they had had sex with a girlfriend or a boyfriend and had used protection, a big difference from when I was a teen.

      6% of middle schoolers are having sex which has led some schools to offer free condoms.

     How should you approach "the talk?" It cannot just be one talk and you're done. You have to be ready to talk about the subject on an ongoing basis.

Some do's and don't s to help you teach your child about this critical subject:

     Husband and wife need to sit down and discuss their feelings about age-appropriate and consensual sex before talking to your child. I'll never forget when y younger brother, Alex told us he had sex. My two brothers and I were shocked, and then I asked him, "What did you do?"  

      "We held hands." He replied. We teased him and verified that he definitely was innocent. He was in 6th grade.

Talking to your teen about sex is too late.

   Don't assume school covers the material. Start this discussion when they're young and with age-appropriate material. And explain how their body is going to change. Yes, they'll get some of this info from school and maybe from their peers, but there will be holes, and you don't want any misinformation or missed information. (Get online and buy age-appropriate books. A little girl I babysit, who is 4 years old, pulled out a book, and that shocked me. It was honest, straightforward, and visual. I guess I'm a curmudgeon. )

Make yourself available to talk, and if you're busy, sit down or set up a time.

     When young people are engaging in behaviors that are beyond their developmental capacity, it's almost always due to a lack of adult supervision. Kids want to be able to speak to their parents, so you have to be approachable. No judgments; keep an open mind if they're asking you questions.

   It's essential to make your child feel comfortable and for you to feel at ease talking about whatever issue is brought up. Yes, you're not going to be perfect at this, but your child will know that you're not the expert on Sex Education. If you don't know the answer, admit it and look it up together. Or promise you'll find the solution and get back to him/her later.   

   Finally, don't get hung up on having a parent talk to a child, Homme says. The goal is to create a caring environment where a "trusted adult," be it a grandparent or caregiver, can provide guidance. 

 Don't use pet names for private parts.

    No matter how tempted you might be to show how creative you are, do not make names for private parts. You need an open, honest environment. Plus, when you use the actual name, 'vagina,' you're saying to your child, there's no shame when you say the correct word.

Be aware of the correct setting for your conversations.

    Berman suggests that a car might be the perfect place to begin the conversation. Just think, your audience can't escape, and due to the seating, there's little eye contact which might make you feel a bit more comfortable. But don't do this every time, or your kid will shut down. Another ideal time to broach the subject might be when you go for a walk. "Boys especially respond better if you are engaged in some kind of activity together, like throwing a ball or washing the dishes," Berman says.

Don't give too much info.

    Don't give so much info that your child feels overloaded and tunes out. Just answer their questions. If a 7-year-old asks where babies come from, don't describe everything in graphic detail. Just tell your child that a baby grows in their mommy's tummy. If your child is 10 or 12, the response will naturally be more involved and age-appropriate.

    Use your child's questions as an opportunity to understand where he's getting his information about sex. Ask them a lot of questions.

Explain their rights, responsibilities, and what's at stake.

     Even though many kids now look physically older than their age, they still have tons of growing up to experience. The brain's prefrontal cortex, which is associated with rational decision-making, does not fully develop until age 21. (Unless they use drugs, that brain section will develop a few years later.) Just think of the mistakes you made when you were 18 to 21. Those raging hormones made us feel immortal, incapable of making mistakes or doing anything wrong.

    It's just not the consequences of intercourse, but another risk when being involved in other types of sexual activity, contracting sexual diseases. Explain what their responsibility is when having sex and what the consequences could be if they are pregnant. (One year, we had about eight pregnancies in our high school, ranging from 9th to 12th grade. Of course, many of us teachers thought it was because of that T.V. series  about the lives of real pregnant teens.)

   Explain that they shouldn't let anyone push them into it. If I had to do it again, I'd practice with my children how to say 'no,' so they're not pushed into doing something they don't want. (This is setting boundaries.)  You have to tell them that it's their body and they have to make the final decision, but that you hope they will think of the consequences and make a wise choice and hope the experience is with someone they love. Having sex can change one's life, and that's not something to play around with.
 

Helpful books:

    Berman, Laura. Talking to Your Kids about Sex: Turning "The Talk" Into a Conversation for Life.

    Elliot, Sinikka.  Not My Kid: What Parents Believe about the Sex Lives of Their Teenagers.

80 - Don't push your child or grandchild into your profession or a profession

    Don't try to push your child into a profession that you wished you had chosen or one that you are in.  Yes, it’s okay to say, “I wish I would have gone to school to be a teacher, but that isn’t what I want you to be unless that’s what interest you. I’ll be proud of you in any profession that you choose.”

     My dad mentioned quite a few times about wanting to be a high school teacher, so my twin, Joseph,  felt that our dad expected him to be one. Therefore, that’s what he became because he thought our dad would be proud of him if he chose this profession.  However, in Joseph’s heart, he really wanted to be a professional singer, and he easily could have because he has a voice that would blow you away. And an old French exchange student of ours still has a father who pesters him to go to school to become a doctor like him and his ex-wife, but that is not what Paul wants to do. We're not sure what Paul wants, but now he's happy working various jobs and living off the land in New Zealand.

    I wonder why especially men try to talk their kids into following in their footsteps or the footsteps they wish they would have taken.  Is there a familiarity with the profession, so the parent thinks he could help the child in some way? Or maybe he thinks it’s a secure profession with benefits; therefore, he won’t have to worry about his child. 

    We didn’t really talk about a profession with our children until high school. I know I discussed with Nicole following a Musical Theatre career because she was such a natural at it and because she didn’t have any idea what she wanted to do professionally. Or was I guiding her into the profession because I had really wanted to be on stage, but I was too insecure to do it.  Now I realize  she didn’t want to share what she wanted to be because she knew her father would be freaked. She became a mortician. When Alan found out, he did get grossed out. I, however, told him that it took a very very special person to go into that field. I'm very very proud of her.  Alan has finally gotten used to the idea. He felt that she was so intelligent that she could have done anything.
   It takes an intelligent individual to go into that field because the courses are challenging. Her choice fit her personality. She liked the arts which had a tinge of darkness. Also, she was excellent in science and math and unlike me, she didn't have any problems with memorizing. Some of the courses required are:  psychology,  interpersonal communication and grief counseling, a class I'm sure which helped her process her grief after she lost her brother to a heroin overdose.

   You, as a parent, guardian, relative, Au pair person, babysitter or grandparent have to be open and accepting. It’s their life. They are going to be the ones that have to like their job, not you.

   Yes, parents or care giver should discuss your teen’s interest and stress the importance of making a decent living so bills can be paid. If they're in their teens, get online and look up the education needed, and yearly income together. Have your teen do the math. Share with your teen how much it takes to live monthly: rent, utilities, food, insurance, car, etc. (I did this with my English students.) This will really open their eyes. My students were always shocked when we did this as a mini assignment in regards to a reality check.  I think they appreciated their parents even more. That does not mean a parent should stress going to a 4-year university. There are plenty of jobs out there that have a two-year program. Some professions will train them while they are working on the job. 

         Kyle was so confused about what career to choose. I kept telling him he’s 19, just relax and enjoy going to school.  But now even community colleges make you chose a career. He decided upon   rchitecture. Math wasn’t his strongest subject, so I was worried. I told him, “Kyle you don’t have to choose architecture because your dad is doing it.”

      “Mom, I’m not, I just don’t know what else to do. And I like buildings." He found the math too difficult and decided to switch to history as his major and P.E. and teach high school He had talked about being a teeacher when he was in high school because he had had some excellent teachers. But Ithink he thought his dad would be more proud of him if he went into architecture.

    In Europe, a few countries allow teens in their last two years of high school to work or train with professionals in the afternoon to see if they’d like to work in that field. Then they can experience what it’s like to be a plumber, nurse, electrician and then decide if it's right for them. Some actually start learning a trade.

     In Germany they encourage the high school graduates to work at a few jobs they're interested in before taking classes at the university, so they have some experience behind them and have grown up a bit, so they’re more focused.  I wish that were more of a philosophy in the U.S. Maybe there would be less drinking and better grades the first year of college or trade school.

     The best advice I can give is to talk to your children  but leave your own agenda behind. Ask them what they’re interested in doing at an early age. It will change probably at least 50 times before graduating.  Don’t become anxious if your son decides he wants to be a dog catcher, just go with it. You can talk about the pros and cons of each job. Don’t talk about income until maybe middle school.

  You can highlight this site, copy and paste onto search section at top of page.    The sites change often, so I only listed one. But I'm sure you can find a couple of useful ones all by yourself.

 https://www.thebalancecareers.com/helping-your-children-make-career-choices-525407  

79 Dead son Lecturing me about why he chose to be Bi-polar in this Life Time

 
                                   JOURNAL ENTRY           November   2011 

   After having a daughter run away from all the chaos in our home and then losing a son to deadly heroin, I was bombarded with guilt. There were so many dark thoughts: if I would have done this or if I could have done that and not been a chicken shit, everything would have been different.   I would still have a daughter who was talking to us instead of shutting us out of her life, and we’d even have a son who was alive.
   I drove to school struggling to blink away the wall of tears; I could barely see the road.  My mind would not be quiet. My brain kept replaying all my mistakes. I pulled into the school parking lot, unsure if I could even crawl out of my car. The car mirror told me I looked like shit. My eyes were red and puffy. 
   “I wish I could have guided you better,” a sigh of disappointment slipped from my lips.   
   “Mom, it wouldn’t have mattered, even if I didn’t get involved with drugs, I still would have died.” My dead son explained.  “Would you feel any better if I would’ve been killed in a car crash?”
   “No, but maybe you wouldn’t have suffered so much while growing up. And we wouldn’t have become so confused and upset with your behavior. The whole family morphed into other people.”
   “Mom, I’m sorry but what happened, was supposed to happen. I made that choice before I was born and you made your choice to have me as a son. These conflicts had to occur for all of us, including Nicky for our souls to advance.” 
   “But why would you choose to be bi-polar? You were up and down like a yo-yo.”
   “’Cuz it made me learn some lessons quicker. My soul needed to learn specific lessons faster because my soul knew my physical life on earth would be short.”
   “What the hell lessons did you learn?”
   “To accept myself, I learned I didn’t need my friends for approval. Also, I learned to work harder to get what I want. Determination definitely wasn’t something I was born with, remember? I always wanted to give up anytime something was hard.” I smiled and shook my head in remembrance. “Most of all, I finally accepted Dad and knew he loved me even though he lost his temper with some of the stupid decisions I made and the dangerous things I did.”
   “You know, this sucks to the trillionth degree, don’t you?"
   “I know, mom. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt any of you. I wish I could have listened and learned from my mistakes.” He paused a second.  “You know, it’s not like I left you. You’re still stuck with me.”
    I released a long sigh.  “I just miss your physical self and your life experiences." I could feel that he had smiled.  No, I don’t mean the car crashes and the drugs. I miss you talking about your friends, your dates, school and your future. Also, I've missed experiencing that with Nicole too, and that majorly hurts." My eyes well up with tears again. How in the heck am I going to teach today?
   “Sometimes you and I talk more than we did when I was alive the last few years. As for Nicole, you’ll have that relationship with her like you had with me. Just be patient. I say that a lot to you, don’t I? Be patient. Maybe that’s another life lesson you have to learn, huh?”
   I chuckle, “Yea, I’m not very good with that word, but I’ve come a long way with it." I sniffle and blow my nose on an antique handkerchief, something Nicole got me into instead of using Kleenex. "Love you. Have a super day.”
    “You too, mom.” 
   I grabbed my computer and briefcase, looked in the mirror again. Well, my eyes look a little better. Oh, well, my students are used to this look. I slammed the car door.  One of my students was already at my classroom door.
    Ana asked, “Can I help you?”
    “No, I’m okay.”  I tried not to look at her, or she’d notice I was crying.
   “We walked into the room, and I set my stuff down.  Ana followed me to my desk.
    “Ms. B., may I hug you? It sounds like you're having a Kyle day."
     I shook my head, yes, fighting to keep my emotions at bay. I’m always amazed how loving and sensitive the students, faculty, and administration has been at Canoga High School since Kyle passed away. I felt her strong healing arms squeeze me. They seemed to give me strength.
   “Have a good day, okay?” She chirped.
    I nodded, smiled at her and thanked her and swallowed hard. I knew I would.
   I knew my personal counselor would not be there for me every second I dipped into depression, but right now he was the one who’s been helping me keep it together, him and my therapist. Yes, I knew I’d have to give him a lot more freedom. And I knew I was selfish, but I couldn't help it. I understood in my heart that he has his own life up in the heavens, but I wasn't quite strong enough to let him go. Not yet.